


Perfectly Compatible

by nyromes



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Asexual Character, Asexual Enjolras, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Choking, Dominant Enjolras, Fluff and Smut, Kinking While Ace, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Pornstar Grantaire, Submissive Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9239174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyromes/pseuds/nyromes
Summary: The fact that Enjolras is asexual and Grantaire’s a porn star must make them seem incompatible to anyone who doesn’t know them, but Grantaire can’t think of anyone he’d rather be with than his Apollo.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first time posting something explicit in this fandom... I really hope this is okay.

“I want to be on your next shoot.”

Grantaire blinks, and Enjolras tilts his head to the side, looking up at him with his beautiful blue eyes and an innocent smile.

“C-come again?” Grantaire splutters.

The blond rolls his eyes and turns onto his side, pressing himself closer into the warmth of Grantaire’s body and resting his head on his partner’s strong shoulder. He smooths his hand over Grantaire’s chest, holding his gaze.

“I would very much like,” he repeats slowly, “to be with you on your next shoot.”

It doesn’t really help with Grantaire’s confusion as much as he hoped it would.

“I- uhm,” Grantaire frowns and pushes himself up to sit against the headboard of their bed. Sighing, the blond sits up as well, crossing his legs and facing the dark-haired man with a look of expectancy.

“Why?”

It’s not the only question on Grantaire’s mind, but it’s the one that puzzles him the most.

Enjolras smiles. “Because you’re beautiful. You always are. But Courfeyrac sent me the link today, to your shoot with Jehan, after they were done editing, and it was so intimate. It was more than just sex. There was that connection between the two of you that was so caring and affectionate… And I want to have that with you.”

For a second, Grantaire is dumbfounded, disconcerted by Enjolras’ explanation.

“Enjolras, we- Jehan and I, we’re not…” His expression is worried now, almost scared as he searches for the right words to express what he wants to say. “You know that what we have is more important to me than sex, right? There is nothing more important to me than you. I- I love Jehan, yeah, but- but not the way I love you. I’d never-”

He is cut off by a kiss, and Enjolras presses his forehead against Grantaire’s.

“I know you love me, Grantaire. It might have taken me a while to realize,” he chuckles, “but I know you do. It’s not what I was trying to say.” He brushes their lips together again, smiling into the kiss, and Grantaire kisses him back carefully, reverently, trying to pour everything he feels into that one caress.

Enjolras draws back eventually, taking in the bashful expression on his love’s face.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to try and explain again,” Grantaire mutters, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I don’t-”

Enjolras nods and thinks for a moment before asking a question.

“Why do you think I watch your shoots?”

“I, uh-” Grantaire shakes his head, “I don’t know. Curiosity, maybe. Because you want to show interest in my work?”

The blond shakes his head. “It’s not that. I do want to show interest in your work but that’s not why I watch it.” He smiles at the frown on the brunet’s face. “I watch your shoots because I like it. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but you look absolutely stunning. The way your eyes lights up- Your smile… You don’t just do it for the money but because you enjoy it. And it shows. That’s what I like about it. The look of bliss in your expression… It makes you happy, it brings you pleasure, and I would like to share that with you.”

“But you don’t-”

“I wouldn’t have sex with you, no,” Enjolras clarifies. “But it would be like when you get off. I would hold you, kiss you, watch you…” The smirk on his lips really shouldn’t affect Grantaire as much as it does. “Maybe I could instruct whoever is with us. You could touch me, or well, most of me.” The blond grins as he watches the other’s pupils dilate and Grantaire bites back a groan, struggling to push the more inappropriate thoughts to the back of his mind. Enjolras seems to be serious about his request, and Grantaire wants to make sure they are both on the same page. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath.

“Why a shoot? We could invite someone over and do all that here if you really want to do this, there’s no need for cameras to be involved.”

“I know,” the blond says, “We can do that, too. But I like the thought of doing a shoot with you. I like the thought of people seeing the depth and intimacy our relationship is capable of. And I want them to see how proud of you I am. I want to show them that even if other men get to fuck you, you belong to me.” He leans in and grips a handful of his love’s dark curls. His lips brush against Grantaire’s ear and the sensation of his warm breath sends shivers down Grantaire’s spine. “You are mine.”

This time Grantaire can’t suppress his groan. He can feel himself growing hard in his boxer shorts. Reaching up, he holds on to his Apollo and slides his hands over the blond’s back attempting to keep himself from palming his cock. He knows Enjolras wouldn’t mind. It’s clear from the way the blond is grinning at Grantaire’s blush that this was his plan all along. But Enjolras hasn’t given him permission yet, so Grantaire waits as Enjolras’ soft fingertips card through his hair and a trail of kisses is left on his neck.

A moan breaks from his lips when Enjolras twirls a strand of hair around his fingers and tugs, his teeth biting down lightly on the sensitive skin of Grantaire’s throat at the same time.

“Enj-”

After all the times they've done this, the effect his golden-haired Apollo has on him is still as intoxicating as on the day they first met. It’s unfair, Grantaire thinks, how easy it is for Enjolras to make him writhe without even touching him below his waist or getting undressed, just by kissing him like this, being close to him. It’s ridiculous, really, but Grantaire wouldn’t change it for the world.

When Enjolras first told him about being asexual and aromantic, Grantaire would have never pictured them like this, assuming that their relationship would never be physical. It pained him at first, to think that perhaps Enjolras wouldn’t feel comfortable kissing him, would maybe not even hold his hand or cuddle up to him in bed, but it didn’t change anything about Grantaire’s feelings. He knows he would have committed himself to this relationship all the same, he still would, even if he had to give up sex completely, and he knows he would never regret it.

But as much as Enjolras doesn’t care for sex himself, he is more than interested in Grantaire’s sexuality. It confused Grantaire at first when Enjolras asked him about his work and his kinks and merely grinned when they made out on the couch for the first time and Grantaire’s hard cock nudged against his thigh.

Grantaire had his first sexual experience when he was fourteen, has worked in porn for more than three years now, but he’s never come harder than with Enjolras pressed up against him, watching him get himself off.

His breath catches in his throat as Enjolras sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin on his collarbone and the blond chuckles, drawing back a little.

“What do you want?” he asks softly, releasing his grip on Grantaire’s hair and sliding his hand down to rest on the side of his friend’s throat. Grantaire’s pulse is beating fast and strong under the skin of his palm and Enjolras presses a little closer, moving his thumb over his partner’s Adam’s apple.

The pressure is light, hardly enough, but the promise is there and Grantaire can’t help but lean into the warm touch. His cock is straining against his boxers by now, the fabric quickly becoming too constricting.

They have talked about this when Enjolras asked him about his fantasies, but they have never actually put it into practice until now.

He swallows, feeling the grip of Enjolras’ hand on his neck, and Enjolras watches, spellbound, as his muscles work beneath his fingers.

“Choke me,” Grantaire rasps, “Please...”

God, he wants to feel those elegant fingers close around his throat, cutting off the oxygen supply to his head. He trusts Enjolras, he always has, even with his life. There is nothing he wouldn’t let Enjolras do to him. But this, fuck, he really needs this. He loves Enjolras with every fibre of his body, but right now he truly curses the blond’s carefulness, because instead of squeezing harder, Enjolras loosens his grasp even more. He stays silent as he assesses the look in Grantaire’s eyes, absentmindedly smoothing his thumb over the front of his throat. Grantaire can tell the exact moment he makes up his mind.

“What are your safewords?” Enjolras asks eventually and Grantaire can’t help the grin it brings to his face.

“Red to break the scene off, yellow if I need you to slow down or pause, and green if I’m good.”

“Eager?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Enjolras reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a bottle of lube and a remote-controlled vibrating butt plug, setting the items down at Grantaire’s side.

“What’s your signal if you can’t talk?”

“I tap out.” Grantaire’s hand pats Enjolras’ thigh twice. “Martial arts style.”

“Good.” He motions for Grantaire to scoot down a little and pushes another pillow under his head. “Comfortable?”

Grantaire nods and smiles, and Enjolras smiles back. “Good boy,” he murmurs and leans down, brushing a stray curl away from Grantaire’s forehead and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. He's decided to be gentle today, probably because they're trying something new, and Grantaire can tell that Enjolras is a little nervous too, even if he's better at controlling his expressions than Grantaire.

Enjolras' voice is warm and calm, but strict at the same time when he tells Grantaire what to do. “Open yourself up, then put the plug in. Don’t rush. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He sits back on his heels and waits for Grantaire to take off his underwear. Grantaire’s entirely naked now, his cock straining against his belly and Enjolras is still wearing his black sweatpants and dark red t-shirt. The blond isn’t generally uncomfortable showing himself around Grantaire in his underwear or even naked, but the brunet knows that he won’t take his clothes off in a scene like this. The contrast is obvious and it makes Grantaire feel all the more vulnerable under his dom’s piercing gaze.

Grantaire has always been a sub by nature, even though he sometimes doms for a scene when he is asked to. When Enjolras offered to be his dominant in scenes like this, Grantaire hesitated, intrigued as to how it would work. But then Enjolras asked whether he doubted his dominance and Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh, because, really, there’s probably never been anyone more naturally dominant than Enjolras. Grantaire knows that it's his display of absolute submission that gets to the blond more than anything else. Still, Enjolras never bothers to get himself off, even if his body sometimes decides to react to the scenes they play out.

Enjolras has never been sexually attracted to anybody, has no noticeable sex drive, but he also isn’t repelled by sex itself, which, Grantaire guesses, makes things a lot easier. Not that it would have changed anything about Grantaire’s love for him if he was, but what with Grantaire’s job, it’s certainly less complicated this way.

The fact that Enjolras is asexual and Grantaire’s a porn star must make them seem incompatible to anyone who doesn’t know them, but Grantaire can’t think of anyone he’d rather be with than his Apollo. Enjolras, on the other hand… Well, Grantaire knows the blond could do much better. Still, for some reason the model can’t understand, Enjolras has chosen him, and Grantaire is not going to question that decision anymore. Instead he takes the lube Enjolras hands him and slicks up his fingers, waiting for the lube to warm up before slipping his hand between his legs.

“Good boy,” Enjolras says as Grantaire circles his rim with the tip of one finger and then pushes inside, his head falling back into the pillow with a sigh. He slides his finger in deeper, then pulls out again, repeating the motion a couple of times before finally hitting the spot he was searching for. His eyes flutter shut and he quickly adds another finger, scissoring them to open himself up more.

Enjolras’ hand comes to rest on his cheek and Grantaire presses into it, placing a kiss on the heel of his palm. He’s smiling broadly even though his breathing is starting to grow laboured.

“So beautiful.” Enjolras marvels, “My beautiful boy.”

Grantaire whimpers and bites his lip, pushing down onto his fingers. There’s almost no resistance when Grantaire pushes a third finger against his rim.

“This is why I love watching your shoots,” Enjolras says, “Why I want to know about your kinks…” His hand travels down to the side of Grantaire’s throat, feeling his breath hitch. “The bliss on your face. Your smile… Like you can’t focus on anything but the pleasure. I love watching you have sex because I know how much you enjoy it. But I love it even more when I’m with you.”

Grantaire turns his head and looks up through hooded eyes, catching Enjolras gaze. “Love you, Apollo,” he breathes, “Love this… Never feels this good when you’re not with me.”

He leans up for a kiss before Enjolras can answer, then leans back into the pillow. His eyes flick toward the black silicone toy.

“Think you’re ready?” the blond asks.

Grantaire nods.

“Alright, love.” Enjolras hands him the plug, “Go ahead.”

Enjolras watches as Grantaire presses the plug against his entrance, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder to help him relax. The stretch that comes with the flared base of the plug is more than what Grantaire's fingers prepared him for, but he already knew that. He pushes a little harder, revelling in the burning sensation, and then the plug sinks into him, filling him up and pressing against his prostate, making him moan softly.

Enjolras takes his hand, reaching for the remote with the other, but not doing anything with it yet.

"Need a minute?" he asks, squeezing Grantaire's hand reassuringly.

The brunet takes a breath, then shakes his head, "I'm good."

The smile on Enjolras face as he turns the plug on to its lowest setting is both sympathetic and wicked and the effect it has on Grantaire is almost as strong as the sudden vibrations inside him. It's good, really good, but so fucking exasperating at the same time. Grantaire can't help but shift his hips, trying to get more, get some friction, panting in frustration.

After a few minutes, Enjolras turns the setting up to the next higher level.

Grantaire's cock is achingly hard by now, and Enjolras still hasn’t said anything yet. So he simply grabs at the sheets with his free hand, the fingers of his other hand still locked with Enjolras', searching for something to hold onto.

He knows Enjolras will eventually hold him down if he keeps moving so much, and the thought has him bite his lips, but he also wants to be good for his Apollo, wants to give him as much as the blonde is giving him because Enjolras deserves it all and Grantaire tries not to think about the waves of pleasure washing over him, tries to focus on something else, anything else-

His eyes fly open and up to Enjolras' when the blond withdraws his hand from Grantaire's grip, because he needs him, needs to feel Enjolras' touch, and he is ready to beg for it when Enjolras brings his hand up to Grantaire's open mouth. His fingertips brush over his lower lip, red and plush from how hard Grantaire has been biting it, and Grantaire tentatively darts his tongue out, brushing small kitten licks against the pads of Enjolras' fingertips, desperately needing to taste him, but not sure as to how far Enjolras would allow him to go.

"Eyes on me, love," Enjolras says, and Grantaire does so without hesitation, his own clouded eyes meeting Enjolras'. The blond's pupils are blown so wide that there is only a thin ring of bright blue left. Grantaire hasn’t noticed until now.

Enjolras never breaks eye contact as he slips two fingers into Grantaire's mouth, pressing down on the flat of his tongue. The intimacy of it all is nearly overwhelming.

The plug inside him is still buzzing steadily, but the stimulation is easier to take now that he can focus on Enjolras' fingers in his mouth. He closes his lips around them, hungrily sucking on the long digits, before allowing Enjolras to push them in deeper. Grantaire relaxes and then swallows, letting the tips of his fingers slide to the back of his throat and for a second Enjolras forgets to breathe. It’s the only thing Grantaire’s learned as a porn star that he can show off to his partner, and Grantaire is really fucking proud of the effect.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” the blond breathes, “My gorgeous boy. So good. Like you were made for this.”

Enjolras’ fingertips rub over the back of his tongue, and Grantaire loses himself in the feeling, the taste, the intimacy of the touch. He doesn’t notice Enjolras fumbling with the remote, and the intensity of the next higher setting catches him completely off guard. His hips buck involuntarily and his throat flutters around Enjolras’ digits as a loud groan falls from his lips.

He’s ready to beg by the time Enjolras pulls out his fingers and moves his hand to Grantaire’s neck, the vibrations against his prostate making his cock leak onto his stomach.

“Please,” he pants, “Enjolras… Please, let me- God, I need-”

He can’t say what he needs. Anything. He needs friction, needs to touch his cock, needs Enjolras’ hands to press down on his throat. He whines feebly.

“Colour?”

“Green,” Grantaire manages, “Fuck, Enj- Please…”

Enjolras chuckles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re doing so well, love… You can touch yourself now, but don’t come until I tell you.”

Grantaire’s hand practically flies to his cock and he groans at the touch, the sensation almost too much as he wipes his thumb over the tip, spreading the precome over his length. He can sense Enjolras’ fingers at the sides of his neck, just under his jaw, feeling for his arteries, and, fuck, Grantaire hasn’t noticed how close he's gotten until now.

His breathing grows shallow as Enjolras tightens his grip on Grantaire’s throat, gradually cutting off his blood supply and slowly starving his brain of oxygen, making him feel dizzy. He watches as Grantaire gasps helplessly and his free hand grabs at Enjolras’ thigh, his mouth falling open and his tongue darting out as he tries to draw gulps of air into his lungs.

“Eyes open,” Enjolras commands when Grantaire’s eyelids start to grow heavy, and he loosens his hold just a bit to prevent him from losing consciousness. It’s a limit they’ve talked about, and neither of them has enough experience in this to be willing to take a risk. He forces his eyes open, even though it’s hard, and keeps them on Enjolras, reassuring him that he’s fine.

“Please-” he tries.

Enjolras readjust his grip and squeezes again, waiting for Grantaire to become lightheaded again before taking the pressure off his arteries, repeating the action until Grantaire is shaking under him.

“Enj…” His voice sounds positively wrecked. “I- ah, ‘m so close.”

The blond smiles and presses a soft kiss to Grantiare’s sweaty forehead. “Such a good boy for me. I’m so proud of you.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his partner’s eye. “One more time, okay? You can come whenever you want.”

The nod Grantaire gives in reply is almost too weak to be noticed, but Enjolras understands. He always does.

It’s an effort, but Grantaire tries his best to smile up at his love when Enjolras leans over him and braces his free hand on Grantaire’s chest, pressing his fingers against Grantaire’s neck for the last time. The pleasure that rushes through Grantaire’s veins suddenly becomes too much. He struggles, helplessly thrusting up into his hand, his entire body writhing and seizing up and Enjolras holds him down as his back arches and he comes hard across his stomach and chest, just barely hanging on to a last thread of consciousness.

Enjolras instantly releases his grip on Grantaire’s throat and brushes his lips against the brunet’s open mouth, swallowing his gasps and moans. Grantaire’s chest is rising and falling rapidly under his hand as he shakes through his orgasm.

“Love you so much, ‘Taire,” Enjolras mutters. “You did so well. Can’t believe you let me do this. That you trust me like this. Means a lot to me.” He holds him as Grantaire rides out the last of his high and then turns off the vibrator, placing the remote on the nightstand and grabbing a handful of tissues. Grantaire is still coming down from his climax, his limbs twitching feebly with each breath he takes, but he is beaming when Enjolras kneels next to him to clean him up, eyes tired but smiling all the same, and Enjolras simply tosses the dirty tissues aside before dropping down next to his friend, drawing him close.

The movement causes the plug to jostle inside Grantaire and the brunet whines, nestling into the other’s chest.

“Want to take the plug out?” Enjolras asks, but Grantaire shakes his head sleepily.

“M-mhh… Too sensitive right now.”

“Do you want me to get you something to drink?”

“Nah, ‘m fine,” Grantaire mumbles. “Never been better.”

His voice sounds broken, even to himself, and, God, he’s tired, but he knows Enjolras will worry if there’s no reassurance from Grantaire.

“That was amazing, Enj… So good to have your hands on my throat…” He leans up to brush his lips against his love’s, sensing Enjolras relax under the touch. It feels good to be the one taking care of Enjolras every once in a while when it’s usually the blond looking after him.

They kiss softly, carefully, placing gentle pecks on each other’s lips until Grantaire buries his face in Enjolras’ neck, too tired to hold his head up any longer.

Enjolras combs his fingers through Grantaire’s hair and kisses the top of his head, smiling into the mess of sweaty, dark curls.

“Maybe tomorrow,” mumbles Grantaire, “If you remind me of that shoot you wanna do, I’ll talk to Courfeyrac.”


End file.
